


Cat nip

by KryptoRed



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Endgame Lukanette, F/M, Here's to Kitty Tuesday, Lukanette, Smut, and plagg being the chaotic little being that he is, i guess, lukanette endgame, lukanoire, marinette as lady noire, spicy lime as Kelly and Courtney said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 04:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryptoRed/pseuds/KryptoRed
Summary: “Can I… can I ask what you’re doing here, Lady Noire?”“Oh, you know. Just wanted to visit my favourite Purr-isian.” She sticks her tongue out with a wink at her tasteless pun.“How convenient.”She's soft. She’s warm. She’s softandwarm—very, very supple, and Luka does not want to let her go.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74





	Cat nip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [courtneyjjigae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyjjigae/gifts), [KellBell39](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellBell39/gifts).



> It started with an fairly sfw art of Courtney's, and then it spiralled into something worth about 4000 words or more. No regrets. Happy Kitty Tuesday.
> 
> Thanks to [Courtney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneyjjigae/pseuds/courtneyjjigae) and [Kelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KellBell39/pseuds/KellBell39) for all the help you gave in writing this fic.

With his back against the cold glass of the window, he is unaware of the glowing green eyes watching the rippling of the muscles on his back that flex as he takes off his shirt. The shadows in his unlit room are, in fact, the last thing he sees before darkness sets upon his unwilling eyes. The soft feel of cotton jersey fabric and smell of his fresh rain-scented cologne envelops him when he hears a slight click from the window—suddenly, his shirt is what prevents him from seeing the intruder in his room.

  


“Who’s there?” He asks, his voice raspy from hours of underuse while playing guitar in the studio.

He hears a soft giggle, but is unsatisfied with the lack of any verbal response.

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be demanding anything or asking any questions, handsome.” the intruder says, and the lightness of their voice tells him that it’s a young woman. Or a they, but hey, he’d rather not refer to someone with the wrong pronoun. 

  


But before he can say anything, perhaps something cheeky despite the visual disadvantage, he gasps when he feels something cold trailing up his back. He initially thinks it’s her hands, but something also tells him that she might be wearing gloves.

“How are you this fine evening, Mr. Rockstar?” Her hands continue to caress against his warm back, and the cooling sensation of her fingers pressing onto them makes him want to whine at how wonderful it feels. Goosebumps develop along the back of his neck, raising his hair as her hands explore. The sane part of him also insists on trying to find out who the intruder is. 

As his arms try to reach up and get his shirt off of his face, a hand grabs and stops him.

  


“Nuh uh. Tonight, you’re under my control.”

  


Luka swallows the lump that’s formed in his throat the moment he hears her voice, and he thinks she’s seen him do just that and is currently amused by his disadvantage. 

He feels the ghost of her lips kiss the middle of his back, and he tries to hold back a shiver. In his mind, he imagines the sight of his skin if it were stained with red lipstick— _if_ she were wearing some. _‘And it—oh, God—this does not help the tightness that’s slowly forming in my pants,’ Luka’s thoughts race._

  


“Wha- what? P-please, tell me who you are, or what’s going on.”

“Oh, alright. After all, I came here uninvited.”

All of a sudden, the shirt that is blinding him is swiftly removed, and he is quickly pushed to turn around by the shoulders to come face to face with - 

“Lady Noire?! Wha-” 

She immediately presses a clawed finger to his lips, to silence him. “Ssshhhh… don’t want your neighbours to think I’m a robber now, do you?”

  


He nods in a daze, and she excitedly tackles him to the floor with a sultry grin. Despite the sudden nature of the action, he isn’t hurt. Luka doesn’t really know what’s going on, aside from lying on the floor of his room, shirtless, and a very attractive woman smugly kneeling on top of him. Even without a mirror, he knows how red his face already is, and even while the room remains unlit, he’s quite sure it wouldn’t hide the blush from her. In fact, his entire body was radiating heat and longing.

  


“Like the view from down there, handsome?” Lady Noire asks him, and he tries to keep his eyes locked on hers, so that it’s not disrespectful. “Come now, don’t be shy. You can look wherever you want, preferably at me.”

  


As soon as Luka hears that, he’s unable to stop his sapphire blue eyes from travelling across the scant black ensemble she’s wearing. Basking under the thin moonlight peeking through his still open window, she glows like an apparition in the darkest of black lace lingerie. Her legs are encased in black knee-high boots with thin chartreuse trim bordering against the top and sole. He blushed harder when he noticed sheer thigh-high stockings hugging her toned legs, held up by black lace garters. His eyes finally travel up and get lost in the glowing green eyes of the masked superhero.

  


“Satisfied?” Lady Noire asks him, her smile showing off two sharp canines that he can already feel biting onto the skin of his neck, and he almost whimpers in anticipation. _Almost._

  


He tries to shift backwards to prop himself up, but he’s stopped by the weight of her hands pressing against the inside of his elbows. _‘Despite how petite she is, she’s deceptively strong,’_ His mind wanders abstractly for a second. He’s helplessly trapped against a very attractive but dangerous woman, and he doesn’t know if he should be ashamed of the arousal that grows inside of him, or be afraid of why she’s here in the first place.

  


“Can I… can I ask what you’re doing here, Lady Noire?”

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to visit my favourite Purr-isian.” She sticks her tongue out with a wink at her tasteless pun.

“How convenient.” A few stray strands of her hair fall onto his left shoulder, somewhat tickling him, but he ignores it in favour of trying to make sense of how and why he’s on the floor, shirtless, below a superheroine who’s down to lingerie that looks so soft. He wants to feel her skin and the fabric against his own flesh.

“If I may be so bold to ask—does it involve your new look?”

“Why yes, yes it does.”

He takes her entire figure in again, this time growing more confident with every ever glance he takes, and looks her straight in the eye after having his fill. “I’m all yours, then.”

  


He feels both of her thumbs stroking against the skin of his arms, and the supple leather of her gloves makes him shiver in delight. Lady Noire leans down closer to his face, her loose hair curtains their faces together as her nose brushes against his. When Luka turns his head to look anywhere but her, his eyes find the luscious and temptingly pink skin of her shoulders that calls out to him—to bite it; to kiss it. She leans even closer, and he feels her hot breath ghosting against his face, before tickling his ears. She gasps and giggles in elation, and when she moves just ever-so-slightly, he hears a small chime. _That's_ when he notices the small bell attached to the back of her panties by a green ribbon sitting against her graspable waistline.

  


Lady Noire’s delicate snicker tickles his ear, “You like what you see?”

  


He hears the smirk in her voice without turning back to see her face, and he can only stare harder and longer, hoping to see the bell at the base of her back. She continues exploring along his neck and collarbone, and he jolts at each sensation of sharp teeth playfully nipping at his sensitive skin. Luka doesn’t move, but he’s still unsure if it’s out of fear or excitement of what’s about to happen. 

With her arms pinning him to the floor, he has to patiently wait for her to give him mobility and freedom before he can learn for himself just how soft her skin is. She continues to brush her nose against his skin, nipping here and there from time to time, and the strands of her hair resting against him tickles him even more. All of it is slowly melting him, turning him into a wet hot mess, and he desperately hopes that she doesn’t notice his -

  


“ _Oh?_ Is that a tent I see?”

  


He finally turns his face back to her, yet the shame he was so worried about earlier is surprisingly absent. Rather, he just wants her to release him and touch him more.

  


“What are you doing to me, little kitten?” He asks her as he looks right into her eyes, and this time he’s not afraid. This time, he wants to burn like the driest of kindling, her being the spark that starts it all.

“I’m just doing what I feel like doing. The question is, do you like what I’m doing to you?”

“You don’t see me resisting, do you?”

  


The smirk he sees on her face is wild and hungry and greedy. Her face is painted with lust, and he shamelessly wishes it is hungry and greedy for him.

“Tell me when you want me to stop, then,” she keeps eye contact with him as her hands leave his arms, and instead settle against his chest to explore him and—oh, the feel of her now-warm leather gloves all over tantalizes him. The cold, wooden floor no longer bothers him when he has a kitty to warm him up. She goes back to nuzzling his face, his cheek, and his neck while leaving teasing kisses and bites; by tomorrow morning, he’s sure that he’ll be painted with a constellation of bruises that will burn the memory of tonight into his mind for days. 

In a burst of ecstasy, Luka’s eyes roll closed while he basks in the attention that the kitty cat gives him, letting out gasps from time to time when he feels her teeth sink into his skin each one deeper than the last. At this point he doesn’t care that much anymore if Lady Noire makes him bleed—he can’t be bothered.

Her left hand plants itself beside his right arm, while her other hand continues to explore his exposed waist, cupping against the sharp angles of his body before her pointed claws tease him by tracing harmless warnings onto him. In a moment of bold clarity, he lifts both of his arms up to touch her waist, slowly as if waiting for her to grab and halt his advances. Her face remains tucked between his neck and shoulder while her arms stay in place; he takes this as a sign to settle his hands against her velvetine hips. 

She's soft. She’s warm. She’s soft _and_ warm—very, very supple, and Luka does not want to let her go. He rubs his thumbs against her skin, and he mentally pats himself on the back for hearing her approving whine as he does so. She follows his lead by taking a few kitten licks at his neck, before her teeth settle onto his skin, and she sucks.

A groan escapes from his parted lips, and his fingers tighten against her waist as he feels her sucking his neck desperately as if she was parched, and he was water. His eyes close, and his brows furrow at the heavenly experience, his hips give shallow thrusts up in a desperate attempt to gain friction, but all he reaches is air and barely touches the lace of her panty.

She bites his neck, not deep enough for him to bleed, but enough to feel the pang of pain and pleasure; his hands tighten at her waist, his eager fingers waiting for a sign that would let his hands roam. He hears her let out an airy giggle even while she’s busy leaving a mark on his neck. One of his hands moves to touch her lower back where he finds delicate dimples at the small of her back, and its warmth fails to keep her from shuddering at the touch. With a purr, Lady Noire finally lets go of his neck, and he feels a string of saliva snapping and landing on his developing neck bruises, only to start anew with marking him on his collarbone. 

Likewise with how she marked his neck, she licks downwards along his collarbone and gives it a few teasing bites to prepare him, while her hand resting on his waist moves to his belly button, her sharp claws barely touching and circling the area around it. The icy nail tracing him takes him by surprise, leading him to drop his bare back back onto the cold, wooden floor, unbothered.

Lying on the hard floor while the flush rushing through him simmers like a heatwave, Luka’s left in a completely debauched state, whimpering and whining and moaning as he drowns in the pleasure from her love bites and sharp claws as she claims her prey—him. Perhaps feeling strained by putting all of her weight on her knees, she straddles his waist and does what would most likely be the death of him; with a flip of her long silky hair, she glances down and surveys him with an amused twinkle in her eyes. Lady Noire starts grinding against his ever-tightening jeans, all the while she carries on with marking him as hers. Luka gasps as he tilts his head up as if inviting her to assault some of the remaining unblemished skin on his neck, to which she takes up without hesitation. 

The hand on her waist leaves and decides to settle on the back of her thigh, massaging the supple skin while his fingers tighten against them. His fingers trace feather-soft designs at the edge of her underwear. Stunned with how close his hand has come to her underwear, she gasps and straightens up. Whimpering in disappointment, Luka can only continue massaging her thigh. Pitying the sight of him underneath her, his face flushed and eyes glazed, she coos at him as she rubs at his growing tent even more. Their eyes make contact with one another, and it lasts long enough for Luka to boldly push his thumb underneath the edge of her panties, kneading the skin that hides underneath the lace.

She bends down to him, close enough for her lips to brush against his, but they don’t, and he can only taste her citrus breath, and bright green eyes stay locked on his as she rubs against him even more, a little faster than the first time; the bell attached to the back of her garter belt jingles, and hearing the sound only encourages the hand resting on her lower back to reach out and play with it. The hand on her thigh keeps on kneading, the thumb tucked underneath the lacy panties still busying itself with her hidden skin. 

After he satisfied himself with the little bell on her belt, his hand leaves for her spine to brush it gently and trace the edge of her intricately textured bra. She jerks a little at his action, jingling the bell even more, accompanied by the sound of her humming and gasping. Luka smirks playfully at her reaction.

Tempted by the sight of her exposed neck in front of him, Luka nuzzles the inviting area and leaves his own kisses onto the slowly flushing skin. A hand combs through his now unruly hair and lightly tugs at the tangled blue locks. Keeping his hand on her back and still kissing the skin that calls for the attention of his lips, he pushes himself up to a sitting position. He slowly pulls away from her neck to meet her eyes with his again, their faces leaning closer to one another, lips now only a hair’s breadth away from each other. 

Lady Noire is still constantly rubbing herself against his growing hardness hiding inside his pants, and the delightful fiery friction entices him to thrust up in ecstasy—oh, how delicious it is to feel the heat of her. Even if separated by multiple layers of denim and lace between them, it still leaves them choking on their gasps. He watches her expose her neck even further to him, throwing her head back, and her hair tickles the skin on his hand and the hand that rests on her spine. And in that moment, he sees something that finally clicks into place.

They can feel the growing explosion of heat deep within them, and she rubs even faster and he thrusts even harder. Drowning in the stimulation and friction, she eventually hugs his head to her chest, cushioning his face against lace and even more of her skin. Luka’s breaths brush against her cleavage, his tongue peeking out to have a taste of her, and breathing in the scent of one aroused kitty.

She moans, and he groans. The hand on her thigh now moves to squeeze the lace-covered flesh of her ass, while the other hand travels up her spine to play with the hair at the nape of her neck. Lady Noire’s hands move from their grip in his hair down his neck to settle iron-tight on his shoulders, claws digging into his soft sun-kissed skin. She rubs against him more and more; faster and harder. He responds by thrusting even more, as if daring his clothed cock to escape the confines of his pants and find its way into her.

  


Finally, finally… they succumb to the rush that leaves both of them choking on their breaths. Her arms squeezing against him, and his hands kneading deeper into her flesh and gripping tightly onto her hair. Their bodies tremble against one another, the sweat that had been building up slowly dripping down from their brows, backs, and necks. Their limbs grow tired of their position, and Lady Noire pulls away from her hold on him and looks directly into his eyes. Luka notices how they’re pretty much drooping, and he assumes that she must’ve had an exhausting day before slinking her way into his room. The climax a few moments ago must’ve taken out all of her remaining energy, making her close to passing out onto his shoulder.

  


“Hey, you okay?” He asks her, a hand holding onto the side of her head to pat her dark, silky hair.

“Mmm… that was amazing.” she gives him a crooked smile, eyes already closing, before leaning her head on his shoulder. A soft purr vibrates gently throughout her body.

  


He rubs his hand along her back to help soothe her, but also panicking a little about what to do next. Was she going to spend the night here, then? In his room? What if there were people looking for her civilian self? All those questions started swimming around his mind, unsure how to tackle each of them, let alone, what to handle first.

In the end, he decides to gently carry her to his bed after a few tries trying not to jostle her awake. Once he has her lying on the soft mattress and about to cover her with a blanket, he realizes that she might grow uncomfortable wearing—well, wearing a mix between her costume and lingerie. Although he could understand that lingerie was pretty much suited for sleeping, Luka wasn’t entirely convinced that sleeping with a mask, gloves, cat ears, and boots are the best to sleep in—especially that tiny bell attached to her lower back.

  


Unable to think of anything to do in this situation, he decides to just leave it for the morning and moves to pick up his discarded shirt from the floor, not caring that he doesn’t even make plans of sleeping anywhere else besides right next to her. But as soon as he turns away from her, a bright green light engulfs the entirety of his room.

All the sleep that was slowly creeping onto him has suddenly disappeared, his eyes widening as he halts from picking up his shirt. Before he can even turn to look behind his shoulder, an unfamiliar voice speaks up.

  


“Oooooooohhhhh, man! Was that a pretty hot show, or what?”

  


  


  


  


The rosy morning sun peeks through the windows, its warmth floating into the confines of Luka’s room. Sunlight paints every surface it touches with bright yellow, and it teases at her closed eyelids that are slowly fluttering awake. Once, twice, thrice… she wakes up and quickly blinks away the brightness that startles her eyes, scrubbing her hands against her lids as she groans at the interruption of her slumber.

She yawns and stretches her arms out, groaning at the feel of her limbs slowly gaining movement after a night of staying still.

  


Wait—

  


An _entire_ night.

  


Her then barely open eyes are now suddenly wide awake, and it’s then that Marinette realizes that she feels her bare feet rubbing against the soft bedsheet and blanket. She stretches out her hands in front of her, still in disbelief of the fact that she is currently transformed. The black lace lingerie, minus the bell that obviously does not dig into her lower back, remains on her, but she notes in growing horror the lack of her boots, gloves, mask, and cat ears.

  


“Oh, no.” she whispers to herself, and Marinette now has the idea of looking beside her to see if Luka was still asleep.

A sigh of relief doesn’t leave her when she doesn’t see him anywhere, because she realizes that he’s nowhere in sight at all. That only leaves her silently panicking, to which Plagg finally decides to interrupt.

  


“What’s up, _ma petite baie_?” Marinette’s head quickly turns to the voice of her kwami. “Had a good night’s sleep?”

“Plagg!” She reaches out her open hands to him, giving him a place to land on, before kissing the soft area on top of his head. “I wanna say good morning -”

“Heh, good morning to you, too.”

“ - but what happened? Why am I still here in Luka’s room? Where is he? Did he see me? Did he sleep beside me? Oh God, was that why I felt so warm last night? And, and, and… Where is he?” Her eyes are wildly looking from every corner of the room, trying to see if she can hide herself in one of them if ever Luka comes back at any moment. As her head turns from side to side, her hair billowing around her from the movement, she fails to hear the footsteps walking towards the room, nor does she see Plagg’s shit-eating grin.

  


Just as Marinette looks back at her kwami, her ears catch the sound of the doorknob turning, before the door finally opens to reveal Luka. She’s left frozen sitting up on his bed, the blanket barely covering her chest still covered with lace and ribbons, and her mouth shapes into an ‘O’ as she’s left speechless of her current predicament.

This was trouble. There by the doorway, wearing pyjama pants that are deliciously hanging onto his hip, shirtless and a chest full of purple marks, hair left unattended, and a tray of breakfast in his hands is Luka Couffaine.

The same person she clearly dry humped on his floor, wearing part lingerie and part costume.

  


“U-uh hi?” Marinette no longer cares about covering herself up, considering the amount of skin she had already shown him since last night.

“Hey.” is all he says, before walking forward and sitting on the side of the bed, setting the tray on her lap. “Good morning.”

“Good morning?” Her eyes drop while she struggles into an awkward smile, unable to fully face him without the privacy that her mask often offers. A flush begins to push its way onto her cheeks, only to realize that Plagg is still sitting comfortably in her palms, eyes slanting in mischief and smiling wide. Her eyes quickly look up at Luka, and she is shocked to see him look calm and a small smile drawn on his face.

“Had a good night’s sleep?”

“Y-yeah, I did.”

“That’s good. By the way, I got some cheese for you, too, Plagg.”

At the mention of cheese, Plagg’s ears twitch, and he turns his head to Luka. “You did?”

“Yup. Camembert, right?” he reaches out a hand to one of the plates, pointing out the slices of Camembert cheese next to some crackers. “Just let me know if you want some more.”

The kwami’s eyes dilate and stare at him in awe, unbelieving of the generosity he is witnessing from the same man his holder is obviously attracted to, and turns to Marinette with his mouth wide open.

“We gotta keep him, _ma petite baie_.”

“Wha - P-Plagg!” she tries to pull her arms across her chest, but fails to keep her kwami out of reach when he flies down onto the plate prepared for him. Looking down at the tray, she feels the rumble in her belly asking her to take in some nourishment.

“He and I met last night. After you de-transformed in my bed, actually.”

  


Marinette knows that he’s looking right at her, but she can only keep her head down. Where was the confidence that she had last night? Where was that boldness when she was littering his vulnerable skin with purple marks?

“I-I can explain.”

“Oh?” she looks up to see mirth in his eyes, his smile slowly turning into a smirk, and she feels the rush of blood painting her exposed skin a light shade of pink. “Indulge me, then”

“I was- I was… you see, I was… uh...”

“Mhm…” his hands move to touch hers, slowly pulling them down as he brushes his thumb against the skin of her hand.

“I was- I made a new design and... I wanted to try it on, so I did. I saw myself in the mirror, and I thought I looked pretty good in it.” He continues to hold her hand, meanwhile Marinette rambles on as she distracts herself with the sight of Plagg gorging on Camembert. “And I wanted to ask someone’s opinion, but... but I didn’t know who to ask! And it made me feel confident too. So I thought, why not drop by here, y’know? And since we’ve met a couple of times with me as Lady Noire, I thought you wouldn’t mind since regular me wouldn’t be able to handle showing up in this. Since I have a huge crush on you! _Oh God_ , I just said that! But anyway! Plagg seemed fine with it, but now that I just revealed myself, I honestly don’t know why I even thought to go along with it in the first place, and I’m really sorry I -”

“It’s okay, Marinette.” she stops and takes a deep breath, her eyes looking into his. “Besides, I already knew it was you.”

“W-what?!” She suddenly frantically replayed every time she had seen him while she’d been Lady Noire, trying to figure out where she slipped up.

“I knew when I saw the mole on your neck, right here.” His free hand points to the area on the base of her neck towards her ear.

“When?”

“When we were, you know…” he nods his head at her scantily clad form, and he watches as the scarlet blush on her skin only deepens in shade.

  


Somehow, the sight of Marinette fully flushed in embarrassment awakens something in Luka. He quickly takes the tray out of her lap and places it on the bedside table, ignoring the surprised yelp of the Plagg and crawls right on top of her.

Compared to what transpired last night, their roles have now switched. This time, it’s Luka who has Marinette lying beneath him—a flustered mess. He drops his head down to nuzzle at her throat, the same area that led him to recognize her even behind a mask, and offers it a soft kiss.

  


He hears a stuttering gasp escape from her lips, and says, “You have no idea what you do to me, Marinette. Or do you prefer Lady Noire?”

“I-I—”

“Don’t worry, how about I take control this time?” he leaves the mole on her neck to look into her crystalline blue eyes, which he notices are slowly glazing over with lust, and an idea appears on his mind.

He turns to the kwami distracted by his breakfast and asks him, “Hey Plagg, mind giving me that bell you took out last night?”

“Mer?” the cat kwami says with a mouthful of cheese, and if it were any other day and time, Marinette would’ve laughed at the sight.

  


In a blur of black and green, Plagg quickly zips into a corner to grab the bell attached to its green ribbon and gives it to Luka, who has already turned back to gaze appraisingly at Marinette. The small sprite goes back to grab all his treats, before disappearing outside of the room.

“Just holler if you need me!” is all the kwami shouts at them; they are now left alone.

  


“So, how about it?” Luka lifts the bell in his hand in-between them. “Ready for round two?”

**Author's Note:**

>  _ma petite baie_ \- my little berry


End file.
